


McChicken Mistake

by castiels_angel



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Farting, gassy - Freeform, mcdonalds, poop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24250696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_angel/pseuds/castiels_angel
Summary: Eight mcchickens later.
Kudos: 8





	McChicken Mistake

Eight mcchickens, a large fry, and a large Oreo McFlurry was all it took to reduce my boyfriend to a whining man-child curled up on his side in bed. “It wasn’t even that much food, but mannn, it feels like I’ve got a rock in my stomach. A rock that won’t move.”  
“I mean, you just ate an hour ago. Give it some time.” He always did it to himself, enjoying 3,000+ calories at once. Sometimes the side effects would veer to rather ugly before he felt better. I was used to it all - unsettling belches that would put a kid to shame, trumpet ass farts, mad dashes for the bathroom with a hand covering his mouth and the other on his belly. Especially when we ate cheap fast food, which he still asked for, for some reason.  
“I’m telling you, the first three or four were olddd. Man, I’m gonna need to take some laxatives for this.” He shook his head in discomfort. “It’s going to be a huge shit.”  
I knew he could already tell, and trusted him by the way he groaned after saying it. Once or twice a week, he would drop monster turds, flushing three or four times and warning me not to go in there for a while.  
He fell asleep soon after. -two hours later- During his nap, he finally ripped the first fart of many to come. It was somewhat quiet, but he accompanied it with a groan that signified temporary relief. I scooted closer to him, in a spooning position, putting my hand on the top of his stomach.  
I knew that he was in gastric distress for sure now, as he clutched his stomach, as if there was a pull in his lower gut. I massaged his stomach, which was firmly bloated. I could see why he was pained, because it really felt like a huge mass in his lower stomach. He said he didn’t eat that much, but he had stuffed himself a little bit.  
After a few minutes of gently caressing him, he let out a fart much unlike the first - loud, stinky, and downright gross. It was induced by fast food, there was no mistake.  
“The fart that woke me up,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for real.” “How do you feel now?” I asked. Letting out a moan, he replied, “I’m going to be in trouble later, that’s for sure. My stomach is killing me. Feels like I’m about to explode.”  
“Let me keep rubbing your tummy then,” I insisted, focusing on his lower belly, which seemed especially sensitive. As I massaged, I swear I felt a bulge that was surely the mcchickens.  
“It feels nice, but I think I’m getting gassy. I hope I don’t get bubble guts later.” He pushed out his stomach, making a pained noise. “I know half of those were old now.”  
“I thought that was a little gurgle I heard. No wonder you don’t feel well. Just let it all out.” My fingertips lightly traced patterns over his swollen stomach as I wondered if he would need to poop soon.  
-half an hour later- I could tell he was feeling the effects now, if he wasn’t before. “Whew, I’m about to blow.” He squirmed a little before ripping an airy fart.  
I knew he would end up in the bathroom soon, the way it was progressing. He passed gas again, and i couldn’t help but comment, since it was so abrupt and nasty. “That was a good one.”  
“I don’t feel good. My stomach is churning like it’s gearing up for the biggest shit of the month.” He was clearly at unease from how stuffed he was. I knew he would only feel worse until he pushed the turd out of him, but kept touching his sides. “I bet you’ll take a nice poo and come back and go to sleep.”  
He stiffened, fighting the need to release. “I’m going to take a massive shit. Oooh. I’m not gonna last much longer. That hit me out of nowhere.” I knew that’s how it was with fast food shits, the need to vacate your bowels instantly increases. “Your belly is rock hard.” I jiggled it a bit, making him groan.  
“I don’t want to push this out of me. Man.” He slowly stood up, his stomach huge now. “Why’d you let me eat all those old ass mcchickens?” “Hey you didn’t need my encouragement then, but I’m still here for you now.” I watched him amble towards the bathroom  
He stopped to grab at his stomach, complaining, “This is gonna be a hell of a dump.”  
He hastened to the bathroom, leaving the door wide open as he dropped his boxers to his ankles. As he sat down on the toilet, I heard the long stream of piss. But that wasn’t what made him hurry to the bathroom obviously, so I waited to hear how it played out.   
The loudest fart yet echoed in the bowl, signifying what was to come. “I thought I was about to shit my pants but this is going to take a while.” “Don’t rush it.” A couple minutes later, several sharts exploded into the toilet bowl. “I’m about to take a gnarly shit,” he announced in an odd tone. Sure enough, within a few minutes, he produced something which resulted in a loud splash, after all that grunting.


End file.
